Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
by Lawral
Summary: While separated and having e-mail as their only contact, McGee and Ziva finds themselves realizing that absence truly does make the heart grow fonder.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder  
Authors: Lawral and smackalicious  
Pairing: McGee/Ziva  
Rating: PG-13  
Genre: Het  
Cat: Drama, Romance  
Spoilers: Starts end of season 5; spoilers for Last Man  
Summary: While separated and having e-mail as their only contact, McGee and Ziva finds themselves realizing that absence truly does make the heart grow fonder  
Author's Note: This came from Sherry & I having a day long PM session (as we usually do) and we got into the topic of co-authored fics and I said, "We should write something," and I came up with an idea and we're going from there. I wrote the McGee parts and Smack wrote the Ziva parts, of course. Smack also wrote Tony.

* * *

McGee couldn't believe that he had been sent to the basement; not even the basement, it was the basement under the basement. He looked around at the people he now worked with and couldn't believe that Tony had always called him a Geek. He looked back to the computer screen in front of him with a somber look. His whole life had been up heaved. No, Ziva's whole life had been up heaved. He had only moved downstairs to Cyber Crimes. Ziva had to move all the way back to Israel. Even Tony had to move to a boat somewhere in the middle of the ocean. His life was the furthest from changed compared to his friends.

The computer was scrolling thru several lines of encryption. He'd never imagined working with computers could be so boring. He missed the action being in the field. He had lunch with Abby once a week but it just didn't fell the same being told about the cases that Gibbs and his new team was running.

He pulled up an empty email. Just because they weren't on the team together didn't mean that he couldn't email his friends.

**_To: A_DiNozzo, Z_David__  
From: T_McGee  
Subject: Hello_**

**_Hey guys,_**

**_I can't believe that I've been sent "across" to Cyber Crimes. Vance must be terrible at his directions. I don't know how being sent to the basement is considered across. I'm stuck in a room filled with these computer people who have no personalities it seems. They can't even crack the simplest algorithm and they call me Boss. It's unnerving. _**

**_I would really rather be back upstairs behind my desk with Tony making fun of me and gluing my hands to my keyboard, Gibbs growling and smacking the back of my head even listening to Ziva's idiom mistakes and her flirtatious innuendos. I guess you could say that I really miss you guys. _**

**_Abby was lobbying to quit unless Gibbs got you guys back until I reminded her that she'd have to leave her lab behind. I think she misses you guys most of all. But I'm sure Gibbs is going to get us all back soon. I can't imagine that he likes having his team disturbed and having to train three new people. Can you see him head slapping Agent Lee?_**

**_Well, I hope you guys are doing ok. _**

**_Sincerely, _**

**_McGee_**

He pressed the send button and watched as it showed the two emails that had been sent. He concentrated on the addresses for a moment before the elevator bell dinged its arrival. He closed the email box and returned to the computer that was running the encryption.

***

Ziva threw her duffel bag across the room. This whole situation was just so . . . She emitted a loud squeal of frustration and stopped herself just short of punching a hole in the wall. It would not be fun trying to explain to her father why there was suddenly a fist-shaped dent in his guest bedroom wall. And yes, not only did she have to return to Israel, but she was living with her father again. Not that he was ever there, but still, she was not a child.

She paced angrily for a few more moments, breathing heavily, then had a thought. Perhaps checking her e-mail would distract her. She could always hope to hear from NCIS, maybe that Vance had been brutally murdered in his sleep or such and she was free to return to the States. That would be optimal. It really was strange how much she missed America, and more than that, how much she missed the rest of the team back at NCIS.

She shook her head to herself as she booted up her computer, smiling as she brought up a browser and proceeded to log-in to her NCIS e-mail account. McGee had managed to talk Vance into letting her keep it, knowing it would be virtually impossible to reach her in Israel otherwise.

Her smile grew as she saw the new message she had received. McGee. She should have known. She read the message with the smile on her face, laughing at McGee's antics. Flirtatious innuendos. So he had noticed? She would have to e-mail him back and thank him for keeping in touch.

**_To: T_McGee  
From: Z_David  
Subject: RE: Hello_**

**_McGee!_**

**_Thank you for the lovely message. It is nice to hear from a familiar face; here in Israel, I am not accustomed to seeing these people everyday, and it is taking some getting used to. I must say, I am coming to miss the States more every day I am here. I would even take a slap on the head from Gibbs and a month of desk work if it meant I could return to NCIS._**

**_I see you contacted Tony, as well. I have not heard from him since I have returned here. How is he? You would think your partner of three years would keep in touch somehow._**

**_I hope all of you at NCIS are doing well, and I hope I will see everyone again before I have to send another e-mail. Oh! If you wish you contact me outside of work, I do have a private e-mail. It is mossad_babe. And if I find out you told Tony, I will reach through this computer screen and strangle you. _**

**_Take care . . . Boss.  
Ziva_**

She pressed send and clicked out of the browser, closing her laptop again. At least she knew McGee was doing well. Sometimes she thought it was him she missed the most. He had always been so sweet to her and they had grown rather close over the time they had worked together. At least they would be able to keep each other up-to-date on their lives even without seeing each other every day. Small victories, she supposed.

***

Tony chuckled as he checked his e-mail. Well, look at that. Probie missed them. Aw. Looked like he would just have to e-mail him back and let him know how incredibly non-manly that was.

**_To: T_McGee  
From: A_DiNozzo  
Subject: RE: Hello_**

**_Probalicious One,_**

**_Oh, poor you, sitting down among people just like yourself, playing computer games and being worshiped. Sounds painful._**

**_Ah, I joke, kid. Glad you haven't totally lost it yet. I was kinda worried for awhile there. _**

**_And what's up with the "flirtatious innuendos" from Ziva? I think we both know who those were directed at. (Me.) I think she wants to "talk" or something; she keeps sending me these weird texts. _**

**_Anyway, tell Abbs I miss her, too. And buy her a Caf-Pow!, your treat. _**

**_See ya on the other side,  
Tony_**

Tony grinned and leaned back in his chair. That should brighten the Probie's day.

***

McGee clapped his hands loudly. He leaned back in his chair and groaned as he felt the muscles of his back object to the movement after being hunched over the desk for the past few hours. He had been trying to crack the encryption for the past two days, and secretly been hoping for a message from Ziva.

"Third level, down." He cried triumphantly to the empty room.

It had been an hour since his "team" had left for the night. They had thought that he was working on the same things they were but McGee was on a secret assignment given to him, and only him, by Director Vance. Again his mood turned somber. He missed Jenny. If she hadn't died Ziva wouldn't have been sent home.

_And Tony_, his mind screamed at him. _Tony would be here too._

For some reason, his mind was more interested in receiving a reply from Ziva. Perhaps it was because of the torture Tony had put him through the six years he'd known him. Even before he was part of Gibbs' team, Tony gave him grief.

Tim looked at his watch. It was nearly 9 o'clock. He knew he needed to get home. The kid who walked Jethro would have long since been gone. His dog would need another trip outside soon or Tim would probably find havoc in his apartment.

He checked his email, for what seemed the tenth time that day, in hopes of finding something-anything- from either Ziva or Tony. He smiled when he saw Ziva's address in his inbox. He opened the email and quickly read over the short message. He quickly wrote down her email before turning off his monitors and making his way to the elevator.

It was nearly a hour later before he could sit back down in front of a computer. He'd gotten home and taken Jethro out for a walk. His nightly duties followed of making his lonesome meal and checking Jethro's water dish for a second time.

He pulled the slip of paper out of his jacket pocket and opened another empty email.

**_To: mossad_babe__  
From: sexi_tech_master  
Subject: Hello Again_**

**_Ziva!_**

**_Good to hear from you. I was starting to wonder if you'd gotten lost on the plane ride back home. I'm sorry you suddenly feel like an outcast. I can't imagine how hard it would be going home after three years in another country. Especially when it was on such short notice. Vance could have given a little more warning._**

**_I actually did hear back from Tony and he's his usual annoying self. Even at sea, he's making fun of me. I'm hoping one day he'll grow up. I mean, it has to happen eventually, right? Don't worry about me giving Tony your email; why would I do that? He can torture me all he wants, he doesn't need to torture you too. Especially when he's safely in the middle of the ocean and you can't hurt him. ;-)_**

**_I hope things are worked out soon. I like computers and everything but even I get tired of staring at them all day long. Is your father glad you're home at least? He's not putting you straight back to work is he?_**

**_Hoping you are well,_**

**_McGee_**

He read over the email again before sending it. Had he really started flirting in the middle of that email? He thought about erasing it for a moment but hoped that maybe she would see it as McGee trying to protect her from Tony's antics.

It just sounded so boring, his email. Not like something you would send to a friend of three years; someone you risked your life for day after day. This sounded more like something… he wasn't even sure who he would send an email like this to. He sighed heavily and pressed the send button. He missed them all. But he was looking forward to emails from Ziva.

***

Ziva walked out of the bathroom, drying her hair with a towel. It was so hot here; she had forgotten how warm it could get, and she was taking showers constantly. She wished she was back in DC, where the summers were still warm, but not unbearable as they were here. Yes, she was used to it from her youth, but it didn't mean she cared for it.

As she entered the bedroom, she intended to strip the towel she had wrapped around herself and climb into bed, relishing in the air conditioning blowing over her naked body, but she glanced at her laptop instead, biting her lip. She had been fairly busy lately, but it hadn't stopped her from constantly checking her e-mail accounts to see if McGee had messaged her back. She wasn't sure why exactly she was so eager to hear from him; she chalked it up to hoping she'd be able to return to NCIS soon, but knew herself that there was more to it than that.

When she opened her Gmail account and saw she had a new message from "sexi_tech_master," she almost deleted it, assuming it was junk mail, but then realized who it was from and laughed to herself, clicking on it.

"Oh, Timothy," she muttered to herself, smiling, "you will never fail to amuse me."

"Zivaleh?" A voice sounded from stairway.

Ziva cursed silently to herself and called back. "Give me a minute, Papa. I need to put on some clothes."

A throaty chuckle. "Yes, I think our guest may feel a bit uncomfortable meeting you in the nude, daughter."

Ziva paused in pulling on her cargo pants. Guest? What was her father up to? No matter; he was her father, and she knew all too well that whatever he said went. She quickly zipped and buttoned her pants and threw on a tank top, then clicked out of the browser as she made her way past her computer. It looked as though McGee would have to wait.

***

She pounded down the stairs, slightly irritated by the interruption. She was less than eager to talk to someone her father had brought over, probably to discuss something work-related.

All her thoughts of work halted when she practically skidded to a stop in front of a quite attractive Israeli man, perhaps a few years older than herself. "Hello," she said breathlessly, taken by surprise.

Her father, Eli, smiled as he looked back and forth between the two. "Ziva, I would like you to meet Michael. Michael, Ziva."

Ziva stuck out her hand for the man to shake, but rather than shake it, he pulled it up to his lips, kissing the back of it. Ziva recoiled slightly, offended by the gesture.

"Papa . . ." she said.

He held up a hand to stop her complaints. "Ziva, show some courtesy."

She stewed silently, not liking this set-up one bit. "Of course. May I speak with you in private?"

Eli nodded, then turned to Michael. "Excuse us." He took Ziva's arm, leading her to his study, just around the corner. Once inside and out of his hearing range, Ziva let loose.

"What is going on? Who is this? What are you doing?" she hissed quietly.

Eli shook his head, placing his hands on Ziva's shoulders. "Calm down, dear. I am only doing this for your own good."

"My own good would be returning to the U.S.," Ziva spat back.

Eli gave her a steely look. "You need someone in your life, Zivaleh."

Ziva's eyes widened as she realized what was going on. "You . . . Oh, I cannot believe this is happening. Do you really think I cannot find someone? Do you think I have not found someone already?"

"Have you?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

Her eyes lowered and she shook her head. "No," she responded softly.

He placed a finger under her chin and tipped it up to look at him. "Then, you should have no problems with Michael."

"But Papa . . ."

"Ziva, I have found a man who will make you a suitable husband and you should be satisfied with that."

Ziva's eyes darkened. "I thought I had left this behind," she said, her voice stone, and turned to exit, walking past Michael without a second look and running up the stairs.

Now more than ever, she hoped that e-mail from McGee was saying she could come back to NCIS.

* * *

Grr, I hope that makes sense. I'm glad I re-read it before posting cause stupid thing cut out most of Smack's posts. But I'm pretty sure I've fixed it.


	2. Chapter 2

Ziva slammed herself down on her desk chair, angrily clicking her browser back open and bringing up her e-mail. She needed to vent, and right now, the only person she could do that to was thousands of miles away, back where she wished she was, as well.

She closed her eyes and rolled her shoulders, hoping to ease some of the tension that had gathered in the last few minutes. Hopefully McGee had good news, something that would make her smile or laugh.

Her wish was granted as she scanned through the message he'd sent her, smiling and even laughing a bit at his attempt at flirting. "I wonder how long it took him to write that," she muttered to herself, clicking on the "reply" button to form her own e-mail.

_**To: sexi_tech_master  
From: mossad_babe  
Subject: RE: Hello Again**_

_**McGee, I cannot begin to tell you how happy I am to have you e-mailing me, especially right now. If I were not so concerned about my father listening in on my phone calls, I would call you to talk.**_

_**Yes, I am not only working for my father now, but living with him again, as well. It was easier this way than having to stay in a hotel, not to mention safer. The security here is impeccable. However, I am nearly ready to check myself into even the seediest hotel after what my father pulled tonight.**_

_**He has arranged a man for me to marry. Can you imagine? Here I am, a grown woman, and he is attempting to take control of my life. Still! Just as he has always done. Do you know he did not approve of me coming to the States in the first place? No, he did not like that one bit. He felt it was foolish and stupid of me, even though it involved Ari.**_

_** Oh, look at me. You do not need to hear my rants about my father. I am sorry. It is just . . . I miss you. All of you. Sometimes all I would like is someone to talk to, and I do not often feel as though I have that with my father. It is frustrating, to say the least.**_

_**I apologize again for the ranting. It is simply nice to know there is someone on the other end who will listen.**_

She hesitated for a moment on how she should sign the e-mail, then typed the words, a brief smile flitting across her face as she did so. At least something could make her smile tonight.

_**Love,**_

_**Ziva**_

***

The day had been the longest he'd had in a long time. His publisher had set up appearances at three different stores to start publicity for his second book, which was soon to be released. He stumbled through his apartment door with every intention of making a bee-line to his bed and staying there for a few hours.

He kicked off his shoes once inside the door and peeled his jacket from his arms, slinging it over the back of his computer chair. He glanced at the screen and felt a sudden surge of energy. Logging into his email account, his fatigue was instantly forgotten as he saw the message from Ziva.

He read through the email, his brow furrowing further as he read. Ziva sounded utterly ticked off. He didn't blame her. He would be furious with his parents if they'd decided to say they'd found him a wife. He was sure he could find someone on his own. Reaching the end of her email, he focused on her sign off, and a smile formed on his face as the word hit him. He hit the 'reply' button and tried to keep his friendship voice in the forefront.

_**To: ****mossad_babe****  
****From: ****sexi_tech_master  
Subject: RE:RE: Hello Again**_

_**Somehow I was not expecting a message like that. I thought arranged marriages went out like fifty years ago, something I thought was more likely expected in other countries.**_

_**Oh, right, sorry. You are in another country. Sorry, I guess I'm still not used to you being so far away.**_

He stopped and looked over his message so far. Why, or should he say how, had she reduced him to his nervous, unintelligible babbling while she was miles away?

_**I'm sorry that you feel like running away from your father. Please don't feel that you'd have to stay at some seedy hotel. If anything, jump on the next transport to the States and you can take refuge in my apartment. I'll deal with the whole "harboring an illegal alien" or whatever it would be called.**_

_**Heh, I can just imagine what a first impression that would be for me with your father****.**_

**Uh, yeah, sir? Yeah, hi. You don't know me but I work with Ziva. You know, when she was with NCIS. Yeah, she was really upset that you are trying to control her life even though she's an adult and can make her own decisions. So, she's run away and is now hiding in my closet. Please don't tell anyone. I'll be sure to feed her.**

What was he thinking? First, he vaguely flirts with her via email and now he was definitely flirting by inviting her to hide out in America, where there could really only be five people she could turn to for help.

He sighed. Even over an internet connection and the Atlantic Ocean, she still held an effect on him.

_**Sorry, forget I even wrote that. At the least, I hope it made you smile. I really miss you too. Uh, all of you, I mean. Not that I wouldn't miss you if you had been the only one reassigned. I… I'm just gonna shut up now.**_

He got to the end of his email and smiled, remembering her farewell and deciding on one of his own. He'd boldly flirted with her through emails and she'd yet to threaten his life beyond what would happen if he revealed her email to Tony. He took a deep breath and wrote his sign off before he could lose his nerve.

_**Yours,  
McGee**_

***

"Ziva, you have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do."

Ziva spun to face her father, her eyes glowing with anger. "You have no right to control my life this way!" She began to pace the dining room, fury emanating from her every pore. As she passed by him again, she stopped. "What if I had told you I had already met someone, someone whom I would care to marry? What would you do then?"

"Have you, Zivaleh?" Eli raised an eyebrow at her, his tone hard, yet curious.

She paused, then admitted, "No. But," she raised a finger in defense, "that does not mean I will not. By doing this . . . you are not even allowing me the chance to find happiness on my own! Do you really want to subject me to that, Papa?"

Eli's expression was hard, but his eyes flickered with a hint of softness. "No, Ziva. I do not. But you are a grown woman, who has proven you are capable of taking care of yourself, and I will not wait forever for you to find someone, to have a family of your own!"

"Oh, so that is what this is about?" Ziva asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm and bitter incredulity. "You just want more impressionable children to turn into outstanding Mossad officers, yes?" She shook her head. "Any children I do have will never be subjected to such a dangerous life, Papa. I will not allow it."

With that, she turned on her heel and stomped away, leaving her father calling her name behind her.

As she reached the guest bedroom again, she slammed the door and sat down at her desk. She had been arguing non-stop with her father for the past three days on his arrangement to marry her off to this . . . Michael character. She was simply frustrated that he would not allow her to make her own decisions and felt that he knew what was best for her - even though he had stated he saw she could take care of herself.

The only thing she looked forward to anymore were Tim's e-mails and the possibility of returning to brought up a browser and typed in the address of her e-mail provider. As shewaited for the page to load, a sudden thought froze her - Tim? Yes, it was McGee's first name, but the fact that she had thought of him by it was . . . odd.

She shook the thought from her head and quickly logged in. There was nothing to it. She was simply . . . stressed, and it was playing with her mind. That was all it was.

As she had hoped, there was a message from Tim - no, McGee, waiting in her inbox. She clicked on it, and the awkward, yet endearing, words brought a smile to her face . . . and yet, as she read it again, and once more, tears pricked at her eyes and flowed over onto her cheeks.

She missed him. A lot. She was going through so much stress at the moment and all she wanted was to be able to see him in person, and rant to him, and have him listen, and maybe, maybe squeeze her hand or give her a comforting pat on the shoulder or, if they were feeling particularly adventuresome, he could wrap his arms around her shoulders and give her a hug, whispering into her ear that everything was going to be fine.

She sniffed and hit the reply button.

_**To: ****sexi_tech_master  
****From: ****mossad_babe****  
Subject: RE: RE: RE:Hello Again**_

_**McGee . . . Tim - can I call you Tim? I did not think you would mind, seeing as how it is your name. But this is not the purpose of our e-mails, I would think, me asking you what I can or cannot call you.**_

_**The situation with my father has not gotten any better. I have been arguing with him constantly since he announced his plans to me. He is of the belief that he knows what is best for me and that I will not find someone in time to produce children to become his new generation of trained assassins. Well, the trained assassin part is more my thoughts, but I am sure that is what he wants grandchildren for.**_

_**I . . . I do not have anyone here I can turn to. Sometimes it is all I can do to keep from crying, I am so frustrated! It feels as though my life is falling apart, and I have no control over what is to happen to me. It is stressful and unnerving and I am afraid of what will happen if I am not able to return to America soon.**_

_**I know I have said it in the other e-mails I have sent to you, but I do not know if you realized the seriousness of my words, that it was not something I was simply saying: I miss you. I want to be able to talk to you, and not just through a computer screen. If you have any sway with Director Vance at all . . . please, Tim. I need to return to NCIS.**_

_**I miss you,**_

_**Ziva**_

She pressed send and closed her laptop, wiping her face off with the back of her hand. It would not do to cry over a situation she could not change. At least, she could not change it now.

If it was the last thing she did, she would not marry a man she did not love.

***

McGee had checked his email several times a day; he'd even bought a small clock and set it to Israel time to keep beside his computer. A few days had passed since his last email to Ziva and he hadn't received a reply yet. He tried to remind himself that she was working in a dangerous zone now. He didn't know exactly what she was doing. Maybe she couldn't get to a computer as often as he could.

He woke on Friday and started to prepare for work, looking at his computer each time he passed it. He'd only checked his e-mail six hours ago. She could have left him something while he'd been sleeping. He rushed a little more so that he could check his email.

He looked at his watch. He should be walking out his door but- he looked to his computer- Ziva. He pulled his chair under his body and logged into his account, ignoring the other e-mails waiting for him and searching for Ziva's name.

He clicked on her name once he found it and read, slowly, making sure to take in every word.

He laughed slightly as she asked to call him Tim. He could almost hear her voice calling him Tim. It was like a narrative, hearing her voice in his head as he read the words she'd written. The smile that had found its way onto his face faded as he continued to read her e-mail. He could almost feel her frustration and . . . disgust? Was she actually disgusted with her father because of the reason he wanted grandchildren?

He could feel himself feeling depressed for her. No, he did feel depressed. He had finally realized that he missed her most of all. Then, a glimmer of hope. She had said she missed him. Only him; she hadn't said anything about the others this time.

_**To: ****mossad_babe  
****From: ****sexi_tech_master  
****Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE:Hello Again**_

_**Ziva,**_

_**I know I have said this before, and I know that it doesn't really help the situation, but I'm sorry. I won't go as far as to say anything about how every parent hopes to have grandchildren one day. After the stories that you've told me, so far, of your father- I can't imagine he'd be the type to spoil them with candy and toys.**_

**_Your life isn't falling apart. You control your life, not your father. In the end, he can't push you down the aisle. You are a smart, beautiful, successful and sometimes violent woman, but any guy would be beyond lucky to call you his wife._**

_**Look at me; I'm older and just as single. Would I like to have someone to go home to? Honestly, yes, but I'm not going to be pressured into marrying someone just because I'm not exactly fitting into what the world has decided is the natural order.**_

_**I wish that we knew when Gibbs would get us all reinstated. Then I could at least have two things to look forward to. You would have a shoulder to cry on; a willing shoulder anytime you need it. While it would be hard to listen to you crying, I would do my best to soothe away your tears. Anytime you need to talk, not over the computer, you have my phone number. Call me anytime. Day or night. Really, I don't care if it's 3 A.M., Ziva, if you need to talk, call me.**_

_**Love,  
Tim**_

He stopped typing and smiled. It was the first time he'd ever signed an e-mail to her using his first name. He hoped that she would read it as permission to call him by it.

He sent the e-mail and picked up his keys and jacket. By the time he got to the Navy Yard, he'd decided that his first stop wouldn't be to his desk in the basement. No, he was on his way to the Director's office.


	3. Chapter 3

McGee stepped off the elevator and practically threw his bag down next to his desk. Was it possible to feel like screaming out of anger and crying from loneliness all at the same time? Some of the other Cyber Crimes occupants looked up and a chorus of "Morning, Boss!" rang out in the quiet room.

McGee grumbled his reply to his co-workers as he took his place behind the dual computers. Slumping into his chair, he pulled his keyboard closer and hit one of the buttons with such fury that several of the men glanced toward each other.

"Get back to work," McGee barked to them.

"Yes, Boss," they chorused.

McGee sighed heavily, trying to remain calm. He glanced toward the two men with an apologetic look. He had to focus and get through the task he'd been given by the Director he now cursed profusely.

As night fell, McGee found himself unable to concentrate on his writing. Even the jazz he normally fed his muse wasn't keeping him on task. His mind kept venturing back to Israel, to Ziva and to the absurd notion her father had come up with.

Finally resigning himself from the work he seriously needed to do, he settled behind his computer for the second time that day to write a message to the person he missed the most.

**_T__o: mossad_babe  
From: sexi_tech_master  
Subject: Vance_**

I honestly tried, Ziva. After I e-mailed you this morning I went to work and straight to Vance's office.

He was less than pleased with my telling him that you were needed at NCIS. Can you believe, he thought I was trying to tell him how to do his job? That man has no idea about our team dynamic.  
  
**_So needless to say, I have no sway with the new Director. Let's hope that Gibbs can fix this._**

Love,  
Tim

He ran his hands down his face after sending the e-mail off. Inhaling deeply and turning off the monitor, he rose to his feet and retired to his bedroom. Falling backward onto the mattress, his thoughts again drifted across the ocean and to a single woman. He smiled as her face filled his mind.

Ziva busied herself with the assignments her father gave her to keep her mind off the situation with Michael - work assignments, that is. Anytime she was busy doing something work-related, it meant she wasn't thinking about how angry she was, and the satisfaction of a job well done helped to keep her sane. Still, not a day passed where she didn't think of NCIS, and of McGee especially.

She wasn't sure what it meant, that he was on her mind constantly, but rather than being unnerved by the thoughts, she found herself somewhat comforted. But then she would think of her father's arrangement, and while she was still angry, she felt another emotion she wasn't entirely accustomed to.

Fear.

What if she couldn't talk her way out of this marriage? What if she was forced to marry this man, whom was admittedly attractive, but whom she had no feelings for whatsoever, aside from perhaps a bit of loathing? What if she was forced to stay in Israel, and the only way out was to flee the country, never coming back if she wanted to stay alive?

What if she never saw McGee again?

The last question forced a gasp from her mouth, and her hand flew up to cover it. No. She would not allow her father to win at this. She would fight, and she would return to the U.S. There was no question now. She was determined to return to NCIS, to return to Tim, to return to her life in America. She had never felt more alive, more of a real person, than she had there. And what Ziva wants, Ziva gets. She wouldn't give up.

Her mind made up, she quickly made the drive to her father's house, jogging to the home and breezing her way through and up the stairs to enter her room. She pulled her laptop out from its hiding place and opened it, more determined than ever to turn things around. She would be back at NCIS and away from her father and his plans.

"Two e-mails," she muttered to herself upon opening up her account. Her eyes brightened when she saw the subject of the second e-mail: Vance. Had he talked to him? Perhaps there was good news to be read. She quickly opened the first e-mail, reading through and finding an ache in her chest on reading his words. He always had been one to attempt to make things better; he couldn't possibly know what she was going through, how angry she truly was, but here he was, offering sympathy and a willing ear.

He was giving her everything, and she was stuck here, unable to do anything except feel sorry for herself and wait for his e-mails. She couldn't risk talking to him; if her father discovered she was talking to someone from NCIS, he would probably up the date of the wedding and she would be married by next week. She would not let that happen.

She clicked out of that e-mail and scrolled up to read the other he had sent, the one possibly insuring her future. Her heart fell as she saw that he had been unsuccessful. But she steeled her features and sat up straighter. They just needed to be persistent. And perhaps, involve a few other people in their endeavor.

**_To: sexi_tech_master  
From: mossad_babe  
Subject: RE: Vance_**

Tim,

I will not lie and say I am not disappointed to hear Vance was not sympathetic to your pleas. At least you tried. That is all I can possibly ask. Perhaps you could talk to Abby, and she could talk to Gibbs? I am sure she would like to see myself and Tony back at NCIS again, as well.  
**_  
I just wanted to say thank you for the words of encouragement. I am always astounded at how positive you can be, how much you would rather someone else be happy than yourself. And . . . I have been thinking about you a lot lately. I know it does not do either one of us any good to tell you that, but I thought you should know. I am determined to return to the United States and when I do . . . I would like for us to talk._**

Keep trying with Vance. I look forward to hearing from you again.

Love,  
Ziva

Ziva. She was in front of him. He felt the familiar flutters of butterflies in his stomach. His smile mirrored her own and he began to walk. He bumped into person after person, yet she still seemed miles away from him. Her smile remained as he desperately tried to join her side. He called out to her. She was his destination. It had been far too long since he'd seen her, and yet a mere friendly hug was out of the question.

His eyes were glued to hers as he finally, somehow, stopped in front of her. He smiled once more and, without hesitation, wrapped his arms around her waist and bent down to kiss her.

A noise erupted in his ear, causing Tim to sit straight up in his bed. "Ziva."

Tim's chest deflated and he felt a pain in his chest as if his heart had dropped. Reaching over, Tim hit a button on the top of his alarm clock. Zero-six-hundred. He calculated in his head what time that would make it in Israel. Thirteen-hundred. He quickly got out of bed and turned his computer on.

He had to get ready for work but he really wanted to see if there might be something waiting for him. He thought of the dream as he saw Ziva's name on the screen. Reading through her e-mail, his smile widened and as he reached her comment of thinking of him, his mind returned to the dream he'd been having before he woke up.

She wanted to talk when she got back to the States. With Ziva's English, that could mean a variety of things. Was she going to kill him for his flirtatious e-mails? No, but she had flirted back. At least, he thought she had been flirting back with him. She had said that she had been thinking of him and that she missed him. Could she possibly want to…

**_To: mossad_babe  
From: sexi_tech_master  
Subject: RE: RE: Vance_**

Should I be worried about this talk? I realize that I've been a little… bold in some of my recent messages. I apologize for being forward. I really wouldn't want to be on the wrong end of a stapler or something.

He didn't really think that she'd come after him with a stapler but he thought it might bring a smile to her face.

**_Since you were honest, I will be too. (Insert deep breath, lol) I have been thinking of you as well. Yes, I know it does nothing for us being so far apart but hopefully it won't be like that for much longer._**

Love,  
Tim

He again thought of the dream he'd woken up from. Dreams always meant something and he'd been kissing Ziva in his dream. That dream would bring a smile to his face all day.

"Ziva. Your next assignment." Eli handed a folder to his daughter, who took it and scanned the contents.

She looked back up at him after reading through the folder. "Yes, Director," she said formally, turning on her heel to exit the room.

"Ziva." His voice was stern, and forced her to face him again. He gave her a look. "Are you ever going to speak to me like I am your father again?"

"That depends," she replied. "Are you going to act like you are my father?"

His eyes narrowed. "I am doing what is best for you."

"You have no idea what is best for me," she said softly, then turned and walked out the door, thinking to herself, What is best for me is back in the United States, at NCIS.

That night, Ziva logged into her e-mail, eager to see if McGee had responded positively to her admission. She had been thinking about it all day, every spare moment she had. This was definitely not a simple matter of missing a friend. There was more to it than that. Much more.

Just as she was being logged in, Ziva's cell phone rang. She let out a groan of frustration and pulled it from her pocket, answering it and then leaving the room to speak when the caller turned out to be someone work-related.

At about the same time, Eli was climbing the stairs to see Ziva, seeking to speak with her about what had happened earlier. He peeked into her bedroom. "Zivaleh?" he asked, stepping inside. She wasn't there. He let out a huff, turning to leave, when a flashing message on Ziva's laptop caught his attention. He knew he shouldn't look; it was her private computer, but he was her father. He had every right to know what she was doing.

The subject of the e-mail made him raise an eyebrow. Vance. The NCIS director. And from a personal e-mail address. Interesting. Very interesting.

He clicked on it, opening it and scanning through the contents. Ah. Tim. Timothy McGee, he would presume. He had been thinking about her . . . as well? Well, well. What was going on with this Tim character? Ziva had told him she had not found another man to be with when he had prodded her and yet, this message seemed to prove the opposite.

He had seen the dossier on this Timothy fellow. Surely Ziva could find a better man to be with than him. Like Michael. And besides, she was here and Timothy was in America. It would not be good for her to be attached to someone she could not even physically be with.

He clicked the 'delete' button, sending the message to the trash, then exited the room again. He was simply doing what he felt was best for her, even if that meant she would marry a man she didn't love instead of someone she obviously cared about.

She would hate him if she ever discovered what he had done, but for now, it didn't matter. She would forgive him in time, when she saw that he was right and her life in America indeed was over.

The last few weeks had been the longest ever. He had checked his work e-mail almost twice daily and he couldn't even count how often he checked his home e-mail. She had simply stopped sending him messages. He tried to write it off as she was working and didn't have the few minutes to check her inbox.

However, he couldn't help but think that maybe she had been thinking something totally different when she said she'd been thinking of him. Maybe she'd meant that she only thought of him as a very good friend and that was it. He'd been stupid, thinking that she'd actually developed feelings for him. He was a geek and she was… she was amazing. He'd always said that she was amazing.

Tim walked through his apartment door after another long day of trying to crack another difficult level of encryption. Jethro jumped as he saw his master returning home. He tried to look happy to be home, but after checking his e-mail again and finding nothing from Ziva, his mood stayed sour.

If it was possible, he missed her even more now that their connection had been severed. Jethro finally settled down after he filled his bowls. Tim knew he probably needed to eat as well, but he couldn't find anything that called to his stomach. He simply wasn't hungry.

After changing into a t-shirt and his boxers, he returned to his computer and sat down. He opened up his browser and logged into his e-mail account. Nothing. He sighed and closed the browser once more. A few more clicks of the keyboard and four pictures popped up against his desktop. He smiled softly at the photos that Tony had taken of her in California. She'd probably kill him if she knew he had e-mailed them to his home computer.

She really was beautiful. He shook his head as he caught himself thinking like Tony. _Ziva was beautiful even without the bikini. Clothes!_ His mind screamed. _She's beautiful with clothes on; any clothes. Though, she's probably beautiful without--No!_

Tim retreated to his typewriter and before he knew it, he'd written an entire eight page chapter on Officer Lisa. After reading them, he groaned and picked them up. They hovered above his shredder for a moment before he changed his mind and added the pages to his binder.

He was kissing Ziva. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer, her hands had woven their way around the base of his neck. He pulled back from the kiss, a smile plastered on his face.

"So you wanted to talk?" Tim said softly.

"Yes. I do believe that it is time we move on."

Ziva turned and walked away. Tim watched as she walked up to a man. He couldn't see the man's face properly but somehow he knew this man. His heart dropped as he saw her wrap her arms around him and kiss him with much more enthusiasm than when he'd kissed her.

He woke from this dream. It was 5:30 in the morning, according to his watch. He turned over and tried to go back to sleep but the image of Ziva kissing the faceless man haunted him. He got up and went to his computer. Logging in, he found his inbox still without a message from the beautiful Israeli.

He went to work trying not to think about the number of weeks he hadn't heard from Ziva. He kept kicking himself for assuming that she had liked him, that she wanted to talk about… he wasn't even sure what she wanted to talk about. He knew what he had hoped she'd meant but then silence.

He'd known her for three years and had only seen her have feelings for one guy, maybe two. Both men had been charming, charismatic and handsome. He didn't have those qualities; at least not to the level that would interest Ziva.

"Boss, boss?"

He was interrupted by one of the younger guys working with him. He sounded bored as he told the guy that what he was talking about was the simplest thing in decrypting. As the guy returned to his desk he heard a voice behind him; one that sounded unwaveringly familiar.

"Boss?"

Tim turned to see Gibbs standing behind him. He quickly explained why the other members of Cyber Crimes called him Boss. Gibbs, he saw, found it slightly humorous. Tim's breath almost caught in his chest as Gibbs asked if he'd talked to Ziva.

He knew that he couldn't lie. Gibbs would see through that. He fudged it a little by saying that he'd only spoken to her once a week until she stopped speaking to him all together a few weeks ago. He didn't mention that it was after he'd told her that he thought of her.

"Put her on," Gibbs said into his phone. Tim found it unnerving that Gibbs continued to stare at him while he was talking. "Ziva."

_Ziva!_ McGee thought. _He's talking to Ziva! Ok, calm down. DO NOT take the phone from him. DO NOT!_

"I'm glad you're ok. We saw you on ZNN."

_Ziva was hurt?_ He suddenly felt guilty that he'd been upset at not getting any messages from her. Gibbs continued to stare at him while he worried about Ziva and how she'd been hurt.

"We miss you, Ziva," Gibbs told her.

_Yes. I miss you. I mean, we; we miss you. DO NOT take the phone from him._

Gibbs finally hung up the phone, still staring at Tim. "What happened to Ziva? Is she ok?"

"Something change, McGee?" Gibbs asked him. McGee shifted nervously in front of Gibbs. How was he suppose to tell him that he… How was he suppose to tell his boss that he had feelings for Ziva?


	4. Chapter 4

Ziva boarded the plane, trying to erase the image of her father's stone face from her mind. He was not happy about her leaving again, especially not with his plans he had concocted over the summer. She had attempted to not seem to happy to be returning, even though she was. She was eager to return to the people she regarded as her real family.

Though her heart ached when she thought about McGee. She had not heard from him in nearly a month, even when she had had time to check her e-mail. She blinked back tears as they formed. She would just have to accept the fact that he did not care for her in that way and that would be that. She'd had her heart broken before. But what hurt her the most was that he hadn't even bothered to keep in touch after that, not even to explain that he only loved her as a friend.

The plane exited the runway, nosing its way into the sky, and Ziva rested her head against the window, staring out into the dark Israel skyline. If McGee did not want to talk to her, then she would give him his wish. Though, even though her heart was aching, even though every rational thought told her that he must not feel the same way about her, she couldn't be angry with him, and a tiny part of her brain was telling her that there was more to this situation than she could see and perhaps there was a reason for his lack of communication.

She would find out for sure when she reached NCIS. And that she could not help but smile at.

***

Tim hadn't really completed the task he'd been given by Vance, but they had caught Langer. Or rather Lee had killed him, ending the threat. Gibbs had then went back to ask for his team back, including Ziva.

Vance stepped off the elevator as he sat behind the desk in Cyber Crime to which he'd been assigned. McGee tried to ignore the fact that the Director was standing behind him as he continued to work at his station.

"Agent McGee."

Tim turned. "Director."

"What are you doing down here?"

McGee's heart jumped but he attempted to cover his excitement. "Sir?"

"You've been reinstated to Agent Gibbs' team."

Tim had nearly jumped out of his chair and before Vance could change his mind, Tim had packed his bag and jumped on the elevator to take him upstairs. He wasn't surprised at all to see Abby standing on the other side of the doors as they opened.

"Timmy!" She jumped at him, circling her arms around him.

McGee laughed. He should have known that Abby would have heard that he was going back to Gibbs' team. His arm raised to her back and hugged her back.

"I can't believe it! Did you hear? Ziva is coming back, too. Two of my three have returned. Yay!"

The elevator doors opened once again at the bullpen and she linked her arm through his and stepped off the lift to thank Gibbs for getting her Musketeers back.

"Ziva!" Abby jumped as they looked up to see Ziva stepping off the other elevator.

McGee smiled. She was back even if she hadn't been thinking of him in the same manner as he'd been thinking of her. She hugged Abby and then turned to hug Gibbs. He smiled, hoping that it was his turn but Gibbs seemed to hold on to her forever.

She's reluctant to let go of Gibbs, knowing she's already hugged Abby and there's only one person left in the room. She knows if she doesn't greet him as she does the others, she will arouse suspicion, so she steels herself and keeps the smile on her face as she finally lets go of Gibbs. She'd heard him say her name, greet her like nothing had happened, like he had just talked to her yesterday. He doesn't even sound guilty.

She backs out of Gibbs' embrace and turns to McGee, the look of happiness plastered on her face while she feels empty inside. "McGee."

McGee shuffled his feet for a moment before lifting his arm and wrapping it around her neck briefly. He could feel the tension in her shoulders. It was like she didn't want to be anywhere near him but she was trying to appear as if she was in a good mood. Perhaps it was just the fact that she'd finally made it back to the States and to NCIS.

McGee's eyes shifted everywhere but at her and he finally turned and the group disbursed. He returned to his desk and started to gather his things. Keating had left such a mess on his desk and computer but he'd leave that for tomorrow.

Ziva didn't trust herself to speak quite yet. She was still hurt, and angry. She couldn't believe he was simply acting like nothing had happened.

She watched him look at their desks and attempted a lame, "It is good to be back, no?"

Tim looked up to her and nodded his head slightly. "You have no idea."

He chuckled softly and lowered his gaze once more. He had heard that Ziva had been hurt but after nearly getting busted by Gibbs, he didn't have the courage to ask how she'd been hurt. He could see that she had a bump on her head and a bandage.

Why was it that she kept getting injured in the face? She was too beautiful to have a bruise or injury to her face. Had somebody hit her like that steroid-popping Corporal had? He could feel the anger rising at the thought of someone striking her.

Ziva tipped her head to the side and studied McGee's expression. He suddenly looked . . . angry. Like he had any reason to be upset. He was the one who had stopped talking to her.

Whatever happened, they needed to take care of it now, before Gibbs noticed something was wrong. She looked him in the face again, her expression emotionless. "I think we need to talk. Somewhere private."

McGee looked up suddenly. Abby had returned to thanking Gibbs over and over for getting her team back. He glanced at them before turning back to Ziva. He got back to his feet and joined her. "After you."

He felt his nerves go into overdrive again. She'd said that she wanted to talk but he didn't really need her to tell him that she wasn't interested; he thought the silence had done that job.

Ziva walked stiffly to the elevator, trying not to let McGee's presence behind her affect her too much. She could feel the tension building all around them, and she knew if they didn't get alone soon, she would explode.

She punched the button for the elevator, tapping her foot as she waited for it to arrive. Finally, it did, and she nearly jumped inside the car, waiting for McGee to follow her in. He had a confused look on his face, and as soon as the doors closed, she reached over to shut down the car, then turned back to him.

"Why haven't you been e-mailing me?"

McGee was taken back but her sudden outburst. He turned to face her in the darkened room.

"E-mailing? You stopped messaging me," he told her.

Ziva gave him a look of disbelief. What was he talking about? "I had not heard from you since . . . since I admitted to thinking about you," she finished softly. She shook her head, then said, "If you did not want to continue talking to me, you should have at least said so." She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a defiant look.

"Yeah and I sent one back, Ziva. I told you that." He paused, taking in her appearance once more. "I told you that I hoped this talk wouldn't put me at the other end of a stapler."

He groaned and cursed himself for not being able to tell her what else he'd said. Why was she acting like she hadn't gotten the message?

Ziva gave McGee a look like he had grown a second head and shook her own head. "I did not ever receive that e-mail, McGee. Perhaps you just thought you sent it?"

McGee shook his head. "No, no. I know I sent it. I remember because.."

His statement fell flat as he refused to complete his statement. She would probably think he'd really lost his mind if she knew what he was thinking.

She looked at him, her eyes wide. "What, McGee? Do I have to . . . shake it out of you?" She let out a frustrated squeal. "All I know is that I did not receive any e-mails from you after the one I sent you about a month ago, and I assumed you were . . ." she shrugged, "not interested." She looked away from him, then, not wanting him to see the look of disappointment on her face.

"Not interested?" McGee gawked. "What am I not interested in? You? If that's the case, then you'd be the furthest thing from correct." He paused again, still looking at her. "I like you even more than before we got split apart. Is it to immature to call it a… crush?"

Ziva looked taken aback. "Well, you sure have a strange way of showing it," she mumbled, then seemed to realize what she was saying and looked up at him. "You like me? Then why . . . How do you know you sent the e-mail, McGee?"

"I know that I sent it because I told you that. Then I went to bed and dreamed that…" He stopped himself, ears going a violent shade of pink.

"If you don't believe me, I can show you." McGee told her, desperately trying to get her to believe that he hadn't simply forgotten her.

Ziva smirked slightly at the mention of his dream. Some things never changed. She raised her eyebrows in challenge to him. "Alright. Show me then."

McGee had reached out to turn the electricity back on to the elevator. Then it hit him. He had meant taking her to his apartment and showing her his outbox and the email that he'd sent. She had thought he meant that he would…

Oh hell, worst she can do is kick me in the… and Kate's already done that.

Tim turned and leaned forward to pull her closer to him.

Ziva's eyes widened in surprise as McGee reached out for her and pulled her to him. She was too shocked to resist, and soon felt herself giving in to his lips on hers, her eyes fluttering shut as he kissed her.

When they pulled away, Ziva took a moment to regain her senses and looked up at McGee, who was breathing heavily. She pursed her lips in thought, then said, "And here I thought you were just going to show me your computer."

McGee suddenly started stammering again. "I…I was. I just… I thought that you…I…" He cursed himself. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…" He sighed heavily, squeezing his eyes shut.

"McGee," Ziva said, smiling at his nervousness. He looked up at her, his brow furrowed in worry, and her smile grew. "I can see now that you are being genuine and . . ." she let out a breath, "you seem to care about me."

She shook her head to herself. Since when was she so . . . awkward? Was it just McGee's awkwardness rubbing off on her? Either way, she felt out of sorts.

"Care? Yes." He smiled softly. "So uh… would you… you know, a welcome home, welcome back… uh, dinner or drink… or something?"

She had such power over him. He'd gone from flirting openly in e-mails back to stumbling over words. So far, he rejoiced, she hadn't slapped him for kissing her, either. He'd kissed her; a smile played on his lips from the memory. Maybe she'd let him do it again…soon.

She smiled shyly at him. "Yes, I do think that would be lovely. Shall we?" He nodded and she slipped her arm through his, then reached over to flip the elevator back on.

Well, at least they were back on solid ground again, and she knew that he did, in fact, care about her. The only question now was what had happened to his e-mails and why she'd never gotten them.

If she didn't know better, she'd think someone was trying to keep them apart.


	5. Chapter 5

McGee stepped through the door of his apartment, leaning against the door and breathing for a moment. Pinching himself would be a bit much, in his mind. Did he really kiss Ziva? If there was a way to rewind time just to make sure, he would have done so a few times already.

He glanced down to his watch before pushing away from the door and hurrying into his bedroom. He rushed into the shower to wash up before finding something to wear. He shaved, then went to his closet, opening the doors, then pausing.

A date. A date with Ziva. Ziva. She was bound to look amazing. He had no idea what would look different than what he normally wore to work. He sighed and pulled down a button up shirt and some jeans. Dressing, he returned to the bathroom to put on some cologne and looked down at his watch again. Nearly forty-five minutes had passed.

He walked past Jethro, grabbed his wallet and keys from the kitchen counter and was out the door before he remembered that he had to feed his dog. Stepping back inside, he quickly filled the bowl.

"I'm so sorry, boy. I'm a little nervous. I've got a date with Ziva." Jethro whined as McGee put the food dish next to the water bowl. "Yeah, I know. Tell you all about it when I get back."

***

Ziva unlocked her front door and stepped through the familiar doorway. It was amazing that she had been able to convince her landlord to keep the apartment open, but she had assured him she would return and luckily for her, she had. She still had quite a lot of unpacking to do, but that could wait.

Tonight she had a date to go on.

The thought brought an almost giddy smile to her lips and she touched her mouth, remembering the kiss from earlier. Tim had kissed her! She certainly hadn't been expecting that, especially not after not hearing from him in nearly a month's time. Which made her think of that niggling thought that was currently nagging at her conscience; was someone intentionally trying to keep her from seeing the e-mails Tim had sent her?

She frowned at the thought, and almost went to her computer to check, but then shook her head. No. Tonight was supposed to be happy. And it would be. She was going out with a man she had come to care quite a lot about. She didn't want anything to put a damper on the festivities.

A smile made its way across her face again. Yes, just think positive thoughts, like what he would be wearing tonight. Hopefully some nice, tight jeans. She had always liked him in denim, the way they fit the mold of his ass perfectly . . . Yes, it certainly was a 4, and maybe in the right pants, a 5.

She giggled at the thought, then suddenly stopped. Oh, no.

What was she going to wear?

***

Tim drove the short distance to Ziva's old apartment. It hadn't even occurred to him that he wasn't sure if she had gotten her old apartment back upon her return. He sighed as he pulled into a parking space and looked up to the window that had once belonged to her.

He was going on a date with Ziva. He had to be dreaming. Yes, that was it: dreaming. He smiled; at least he'd enjoy the dream. Opening the door, he climbed out of the car, then walked up to the door and had raised his hand to knock, when he noticed his empty hands. He looked around frantically for something, anything… even if it was a dandelion.

He found some tulips in a flowerbed close by and cut a single flower from the others before returning to her front door. At least, he hoped it was still her front door. He took a deep breath, rang the bell and then ran his hand down his chest and through his hair quickly.

Ziva heard the doorbell ring and stood up straight. Had an hour really passed already? She checked her clock to make sure. Yes. It was indeed an hour later. Damn. She was only half-dressed! Not even!

"Um, just a minute! I'm just . . . finishing up in here!" she called out to him, cursing to herself as she returned to her suitcases, rummaging around for something appropriately sexy to wear tonight. She had this slinky black halter dress she'd been dying to wear, but she just couldn't find it amid the mess of her luggage. Maybe she should just run out into the other room, see if it was in one of those suitcases . . .

She made up her mind to do just that, running out into the hallway in just her bra and panties and . . . straight into McGee.

Her eyes widened as his eyes met hers and she managed a smile. "Hi."

***

Tim leaned closer to the door when he thought he'd heard Ziva's voice.

"…In…"

He shrugged and tried the door. It was open; he peeked his head in and saw Ziva's furniture and the bag she'd had at work draped over the back of the couch. He entered slowly, looking around for her.

"Ziva?" he said.

He walked further into the apartment and was about to knock on the wall next to her bedroom door when she came running out of the bedroom and knocking into him. He instantly looked down and then pulled his head back up to look straight into her eyes. He could feel his cheeks growing warm with embarrassment as she gave him a small smile.

"Uh, hi," he said softly. He held up the flower with a smile before he remembered that she was practically naked. "Oh, uh… I'm sorry, Ziva." He quickly turned around, his boldness from the elevator gone, and started walking back into the living room and toward the front door. "God, I'm sorry. I thought you told me to come in. I'm so sorry… I just… I… Uh."

He shut his eyes and clenched his hands into fists. "Real smart. Good going, Tim. Show how much of a loser you are."

Ziva's eyes widened further as McGee began walking back to the door. "Wait, McGee!" She ran out into the living room after him. He had his hand on the doorknob. "It is my fault. I should have . . ." She blushed slightly, motioning down. "I should have been quicker in finding an outfit for tonight. Um," she held up a finger, "wait here. I will be back shortly."

She ran back to her bedroom, slightly horrified at the direction things had turned. Hopefully the rest of their night would be better. She dug through the piles of clothes now littering her bedroom floor and threw together the first outfit that made sense, thinking it didn't make much difference now what she wore since Tim had already seen her in her underwear. She couldn't help but stifle a giggle at the thought and, after checking her reflection in the mirror and giving her hair a quick combing, turned back for the living room, ready to start her night.

Tim watched as she ran back toward her bedroom. He mentally smacked himself for watching her while she was semi-naked. He turned again and attempted to take great interest in… the color of the wall?

There's nothing on her walls, McNerd.

Yeah, well it's better than watching her stroll around her apartment when she's…

So damn hot? You just got a hint at what Tony saw in California.

That's different; she was wearing a bikini.

Well, you got to see her in her underwear. Tell Tony to stick that in his mouth and chew it.

I don't want Tony sticking any part of Ziva in his mouth.

It's a figure of speech.

Tim hadn't even realized that he had begun pacing back and forth in her living room until he heard a small noise and looked up to see her.

"Wow," he breathed softly. "You look… incredible." He held out the flower once more. "I'm really sorry about walking in. I honestly thought I heard you say 'come in.'"

Ziva smiled and took the tulip from his hand. He was so sweet sometimes. "Thank you, Tim," she said softly, her smile growing at the way his eyes lit up when she said his name. "Shall we?" She held out her arm for him to take.

Tim took her hand and wrapped it around the crook of his arm and proceeded to escort her to his car. He opened the passenger door and held his hand out to help her down into the seat. Shutting the door after she was settled, he ran around the back of the car and joined her.

"I didn't have time to make reservations anywhere so… we might just have to use Thom's help to get us a table." He smiled as he started the Porsche.

Ziva smirked. "I think I could handle being a world famous author's date for the night." And for hopefully many more nights to come, she added in her head.

As they traversed the streets of Silver Spring, Ziva couldn't help but think about what McGee had said earlier about his e-mails. They would definitely have to check into that, though it could wait until tomorrow. The thought just would not leave her mind. She managed to push it back behind the rest of her happy thoughts about the night ahead of them, though, and put a smile on her face, turning back to McGee.

"So, where are we going?"

He glanced over to her, stealing quick glances of her beauty while also trying not to kill them.

"Wherever you'd like to go. I'll take you any where you want." He smiled. As long as I can say you're mine.

Ziva smiled before responding. "Wherever we go, I will be happy. I would just prefer," she shrugged, "if we were not somewhere terribly public." She glanced over to the side view mirror, running her hand over the bandages on her forehead. It was normally not something she was concerned with, but she didn't want people to see them together and get the wrong impression from the scratches.

Tim continued to drive around looking for a restaurant that wouldn't lead them to someone they could possibly know. He glanced to her again and saw her looking at her reflection. He pulled into the closest parking lot. Somehow he'd driven them to a small, romantic little place. Shutting off then engine, he turned to her. "Are you okay? I mean, you were pretty close to a bomb that blew up in your face."

Ziva smiled, turning to him and placing her hand on his, patting it a few times before responding. "I'm fine, Tim. I have been injured more times than I care to remember, and I have survived each and every time. I am young and healthy. There is nothing to worry about."

She nodded to herself, satisfied with her words, then looked out the windshield at the place they had stopped. "Italian, Tim? I did not realize you were such the romantic." She looked back at him with a teasing gleam in her eyes.

This time. You survived this time, by chance.

He didn't know the basis of how she'd gotten injured but she had obviously been too close if it had left any type of mark behind. His worry was more than just for a friend. She'd become more than that over the months of e-mails.

He smiled. He could really get used to hearing her say his first name. He climbed out of the car and went around to open her door. Taking her hand, he helped her stand and then closed the door behind her. He looked up to the restaurant they'd stopped at.

"Romantic, yes. Tony underestimates me and since I don't talk about my personal life at work…" He smiled softly, his hand still clasped around hers. "You'll get a first hand look."

Ziva raised an appreciative eyebrow at that comment. "I like the sounds of that," she murmured, walking in step with him into the foyer of the restaurant. "This place is beautiful," she said to him, admiring the warm ambiance of the decor.

McGee watched as she soaked up the decorum; she'd never looked as beautiful as she did tonight. It wasn't a dream; it was so much better and the night hadn't even begun yet. He could feel her pulse against his hand; he squeezed her hand lightly to get her attention.

"It got even more beautiful when you walked in the door," he said, knowing how corny it sounded.

Ziva had the grace to allow a faint blush to color her cheeks. It wasn't as though she didn't receive compliments on her beauty, but from McGee, Tim? That was a different matter entirely.

"Thank you," she finally said, and smiled at him. She nodded towards the hostess. "Shall we?"

Tim returned her smile and walked up to the woman with two menus already in her hand.

"Hi, table for two? Uh, I'm sorry, I didn't make a reservation," Tim told her sheepishly.

"It's quite alright. We have tables available." She smiled to Ziva. "You're in luck. Follow me." She led them into the dining hall and to a small table in a back corner.

Ziva smiled at the woman, her smile growing as McGee pulled out her chair for her and she sat. "I'll be back with water and some dinner rolls," the hostess said. "Until then, here are your menus." She handed them each a laminated sheet.

"Thank you," Ziva said, waiting until she disappeared before turning a teasing eye to McGee. "Looks like 'Thom' wasn't needed tonight, after all."

McGee laughed a little. "Yeah, well that's good. I think I'd be a little jealous having to share you with him."

Ziva let out a genuine laugh. McGee could certainly be charming when he wanted to be. She then raised an eyebrow and decided to raise the stakes. "Well, technically, I believe I have already been Thom's date once. And I do recall him being quite the charming gentleman. You have a lot to live up to, Tim." She gave him a flirtatious smile, then looked up as a waitress stopped by with some water and a basket of rolls.

"Here you are," she said, grinning at the duo. "May I interest the two of you in some wine? We have a lovely white zinfandel."

Ziva looked at McGee as she responded. "I am in the mood for something . . . refreshing. And you, Tim?"

McGee laughed at Ziva's comment and held up his hand to excuse himself as the waitress returned. He held her gaze for a moment before raising his attention to the woman. "It sounds great."

Opening his menu as the woman retreated, he glanced down the menu. "So, uh, what looks good to you?"

Studying his face as he read the menu, Ziva licked her lips and said, "You."

He looked up, blushing, and there was a brief moment of silence before Ziva began to giggle. "It is fun to act like horny teenagers, yes?" He rolled his eyes and began to turn back to the menu before she reached over and placed her hand on his, causing him to glance up again. "Even if it is true."

McGee smiled. "Well, in that case." He moved to climb out of his seat before he turned back and saw the shocked expression on her face. He almost started laughing as he put his other hand on top of hers. "I'm kidding." He smiled.

She shook her head at him. "For a moment, I thought you were channeling Tony." His face fell slightly at the mention of the other agent. Ziva noticed and her expression turned serious. "Uh, I am sorry." She sighed. "No matter how much we would like to forget, there is always work."

McGee gazed up to her. "True." His face fell further but he perked up a little. "Although, work is over for the day." He smiled softly.

Ziva smiled slightly, but there was still a tinge of sadness to her expression. "Yes, that it is." She sighed again and turned her attention to the menu. "I am always a fan of a good alfredo sauce myself," she said, attempting to bring some levity back into the conversation, mentally kicking herself for making things so serious. They had been having such a good time, and she had went and made them both think of how dark the past few months had been, and what the coming months had yet to bring.

Tim watched her as her light hearted mood ceased suddenly with a single mention of Tony. He had thought she liked him, but here she was on a date with the team geek. That had to mean something, didn't it?

He glanced down to the menu in his hand. "Order anything you like. I think that Spicy Shrimp Alfredo looks really good." He picked up the drinks they'd been served and ran his thumb along the side of Ziva's hand; he hoped he could cheer her up, Tim hated seeing her upset. She was much more gorgeous with a smile.

Ziva couldn't help but smile at McGee's gentle touch and concern. That was so like him, to try to make her feel better. And she was bound to have a good time tonight. No more pouting on her behalf.

The waitress stopped by again and they ordered, Ziva taking McGee's suggestion with the Spicy Shrimp Alfredo, and they proceeded to enjoy the rest of the date, talking and laughing jovially as they ate platefuls of pasta and drank glass after glass of wine, feeling themselves grow more relaxed and less inhibited as the night lingered on, but not so much that they would do something they ended up regretting or wouldn't remember in the morning.

Upon finishing their meal, McGee escorted a slightly stumbling Ziva to his car, and once they reached the Porsche, Ziva leaned on the roof of the car, her eyes boring holes into McGee as she asked, "So, what now?"

McGee was glad they weren't all that far from either of their apartments. Ziva was definitely feeling the effects of the wine and he, himself, could feel a slight buzz. He smiled at her; she wanted to know what else was planned for their evening. He didn't want the night to end just yet, either. "I have an idea."


	6. Chapter 6

McGee wrapped her arm around his and smiled as they started walking down the street. It wasn't anything special, but it would allow them spend more time together. Not to mention extend their date; he didn't care who saw them now. He was on a date with Ziva. Their dinner had been great and now he was going to walk her home and give her a small kiss goodnight. That is, if she allowed him to. He hadn't planned their first kiss and it had been over before he'd stored it in his memory. That would change once they reached her door.

Ziva smiled as they walked down the street, even though she stumbled on occasion. She had drank more wine than she thought. Still, it was very nice, to be home, to be out with McGee, to be safe and away from her father and the man he had picked for her to marry. She frowned as the thought crossed her mind. No. She wasn't about to let her father ruin what had so far been a wonderful night. She put a smile back on her face and turned to McGee. "Thank you," she said.

McGee looked down to her. His smile mirrored her own and he lowered his arm to take her hand in his while they walked. It was much more intimate. Holding hands showed they were on a date, while leading her by the arm seemed more like he was escorting her somewhere. No. This was a date. He knew it and he hoped Ziva agreed.

"Thank you for what?"

Ziva looked down at the sidewalk then, suddenly shy. "For tonight." She looked back up at him, her eyes shining. "It was just what I needed, after the past few months." Her expression darkened and if she had been looking at McGee, she would have seen a frown flit across his face. But then she smiled again. "And now that I am here, there is no way my father could possibly make me marry Michael.

McGee's worry seemed to increase. Her father was trying to take her away again and he didn't like it much. She was where she wanted to be; in DC, at NCIS . . . with him. He silently prayed that the last part was true as well. Maybe he'd hack her computer and find her father's e-mail and plead his case. Yeah, that's what he'd do. Send an e-mail saying that Ziva couldn't leave America. She had friends here, a life and someone who would give his right arm for her.

"Well, you're welcome and let's hope that your father will realize you can't marry someone you don't love," he said, looking down at their hands. "I guess I should let you go inside." He nodded to himself. "Goodnight, Ziva."

He hesitated for a moment, plucking up the courage he needed to kiss her once more. He gently caressed her cheek before placing a soft kiss against her lips.

McGee's words to her drifted through her mind only briefly as he touched his lips to her. The kiss started out soft, but something inside her, something that sensed how he truly felt about her, begged for more, and so she deepened the kiss, pressing down harder on his lips, letting her hands roam through his hair, running her leg up his thigh . . .

She broke away suddenly, panting, but the look in his eyes matched the one she was sure was in her own. Before she could consider the consequences of the action, she said, "I'm not ready for this night to be over just yet," and the smile on his face said he wasn't, either.

Tim returned to her arms; kissing her had become his drug. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to himself. He could feel her hands digging in her small bag, frantically trying to find her keys. Once she pulled them from her purse, Tim took them and opened her apartment door, making sure he kept one arm around her waist. Her father could try and marry her off, but tonight he would have her all to himself.

He pulled back from the kiss after kicking her door closed. She was so perfect but he didn't want to hurt their friendship. "Are you sure? I don't want you to suddenly get the wrong impression."

Ziva couldn't help but let out a laugh, her head thrown back in amusement. Once she stopped laughing, she looked him in the eye, clutching his face in her hands and said, "It's been far too long, for everything." Her eyes twinkled. "I don't want to waste another minute." Her expression became serious as she said, "I want to be with you while I can."

A slow smile crept over his face at her words. He, like Ziva, refused to let her father ruin their night. She wanted to be with him and he certainly wanted to be with her. He'd find a way to thwart her father and tonight would just be a nail in the wall to Deputy Director David. If he knew what was going through Tim's mind right then, Ziva would probably be on transport that very minute.

"Waste another minute we will not." McGee smiled, capturing her lips once more before attempting to lead them to her bedroom without crashing into the walls too much.

***

Ziva awoke the next morning to the sound of her phone ringing. She yawned and stretched her arms, then smiled as she reached over McGee's relaxed form, pressing a kiss to his bare chest as she did so. She grabbed the phone and looked at the caller ID, frowning when she saw the name.

She climbed out of bed quietly, careful not to disturb McGee, and walked to the living room, answering the phone as she went. "Shalom, Papa."

At the sound of the soft click of the door closing, McGee woke and looked up. The bed was empty aside from himself. He stretched, a small groan escaping his lips and he smiled as images from the night drifted through his mind. He heard a muffled voice, Ziva's, in the living room. He reached down for his boxers and pulled them up, then saw her robe still hanging on the back of the door. Pulling it from the hook, he opened the door and walked out of the bedroom.

Even without understanding the tongue in which she was speaking, he could tell she was upset. He walked up behind her, covering her shoulders with the robe, and tried to make out who she might be talking to. If only he understood Hebrew.

Ziva twitched as the robe hit her shoulders. Tossing a quick glance over her shoulder, she saw McGee, giving her a concerned look. She gave him a tight smile, turning back to the conversation at hand. She switched to English as her anger intensified.

"No, no, Papa. I will not be returning . . . Because I have a job to do here! I cannot up and leave . . . Well, you will just have to deal with it. I will not marry a man halfway around the world from me. No!" She let out a sigh. "Papa, I cannot . . ." She risked another glance at McGee, who was pretending not to be interested. "I will explain later. Goodbye."

She hung up then, looking at the phone in her hand, and soon felt McGee's presence behind her. She turned to him, wrapping her robe tighter around herself and willing herself not to cry in front of him. It was so tempting, but . . . she was stronger than that.

"Are you okay?" McGee asked, knowing he'd probably be met with silence.

Of course she wasn't okay. How could it be okay that Ziva was being forced to marry a man she didn't know when she had just spent the night with another, namely himself? He expected the silence that hung in the air. He didn't know how he could make her feel any better. Opening his arms, he waited for her to take refuge in them. She complied and he wrapped his arms around her back and simply held her.

She didn't cry, just blinked against his chest, listening to his heartbeat and trying to wrap her head around everything that was going on. Her father was still insisting that she marry Michael, a man she had absolutely no feelings for (other than perhaps loathing and wishes he would die), even though she was back in America. And then, there was McGee. They had spent a wonderful night together, in every sense of the word. She wanted to pursue something with him, had realized feelings deeper than friendship for him, and didn't want to have to end things before they started because of her father's misogynistic, old-fashioned ways.

She tightened her arms around McGee's torso and looked up at him, an idea forming in her head. "Tim, tell me . . . have you ever been to Israel?"


End file.
